Framed
by Phiso
Summary: “But nothing. I insist you make him the SecretKeeper. Never, not in a million years, would anyone ever think of him.”
1. Chapter 1

First fanfic in a long time…Hope it's still good…And this is not a one-shot, by the way. Each chapter will probably be very short, but that just makes it easier for me to finish.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. In fact, I barely own this plot. So no suing.

  
  
  


Chapter One

  
  
  


"_Are you sure?"_

"_Of course! They'd never suspect him!"_

"_Well..."  
_

"_Look, you know that I'd be questioned first – so why tell me?"_

"_But…"_

"_But nothing. I insist you make him the Secret-Keeper. Never, not in a million years, would anyone ever think of him."_

  
  


There it was. The former residence of James and Lily Potter.

What was once a beautiful home was now falling apart. The windows had all been shattered; there was a hole in the upper east corner of the house next to the young apple tree, where Harry's room used to be. The front door was hanging off its hinges, and a part of the roof had caved in. Not even the tree had escaped unscathed; branches littered the ground, and the decapitated section of the tree was smoking quietly.

Sirius slowly reached up to turn the ignition off his bike. He paused for a moment, somehow knowing that this would probably be the last time he would ever touch it. Finally, he twisted the key sideways and up, wrenching it out of its slot.

It was dead silent.

Dismounting, like he had done a thousand times before, he repressed a shiver. He felt unnaturally cold as he gently set the brake down, trying to quell the shaking in his hands. Sirius walked slowly towards the house he had visited many times before, the ache in his heart unbearable.

**Please…Let them be alive…**

The smell of death reached his nostrils before he even got to the curb. He knew it was too late. His stomach lurched, and he emptied it out in the gutter. Pale and shaking, he coughed once before groaning and falling sideways, lying like a wounded dog.

It was his fault…

It was his fault they were dead…

_"__All right, Sirius…I trust you."_


	2. Chapter 2

Well, last update before Christmas Eve (actually, since it's 12:30, it IS Christmas Eve)! Soooo…Happy Christmas everyone!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or this plot, really. Rowling made both of them up. I just own the word order used to express it.

  
  
  


Chapter Two

  


"_How'd it go, Wormtail?_

"_The spell is done. I'm the Secret-Keeper, like you asked."_

"_Excellent. I'm relieved they finally agreed and chose you – I was too risky. We all know that Voldemort would question me first."_

"_Of course, Sirius."_

  


Sirius didn't know how long he lay there; all he could register was the musty smell of burnt wood and the bitter cold of the late October air. His heart was beating painfully fast, making it difficult to breath. Violent sobs racked his body as he curled into a fetal position in hopes of keeping whatever was left in his stomach down.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. He immediately stood up and whipped out his wand, eyes wide and alert. One thought raced through his head: **Is he still here?**

These weren't ordinary footsteps; they sounded heavy, as if whatever approached was very large. Tree branches broke under the stranger's feet, and for a moment, that was all that could be heard echoing through the streets. Sirius knew instantly that whoever the stranger was, it was not Voldemort. The Dark Lord was not known for his size.

"Who…Who's there?" he called out, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"Sirius?" replied a familiar voice.

"Hagrid?" he asked weakly. He felt his knees buckle, and he fell back to the cold concrete. He looked down as he waited there on his hands and knees, staring hard at the ground and trying not to cry again as he heard Hagrid rush over.

"Sirius! Sirius, yeh all righ'?" he asked, panting a little, Sirius noticed. Looking up, he saw that Hagrid was rather pale, and his eyes were oddly bright.

"They…" he began, but found that he didn't have a voice anymore.

After a brief moment of silence, they heard a wail that made them both start. Sirius and Hagrid slowly turned their heads towards the house.

"Was that…?" said Hagrid, shocked.

"Harry," said Sirius breathlessly, hardly daring to believe it.

Forgetting Hagrid was there, Sirius sprinted for the front steps. He practically flew over them before he wrenched the remains of the door from its hinges and headed straight for the stairs, skipping them in twos. He moved so quickly that he lost track of where he was going; one resounding word echoed through his head, drowning everything else out and making his feet fly over the steps.

**Harry.**

He stopped at the top of the stairs, staring at the place where the door leading to the nursery used to be. It had been thrown aside and had landed against the bathroom door farther down the hall.

Sirius slowly headed towards the empty doorframe, suddenly not at all keen to go inside. When he got there, his heart plunged, and he had to fight desperately against the urge to retch again.

**James…Lily…**

A new wave of tears overcame him, and he sunk to the floor, ignoring the splinters and sharp pains now shooting through his legs. Crawling, he inched his way to James, who was only a few feet away from the room's entrance.

James had a grim yet determined look on his face; his wand still clutched tightly in his right hand. His clothes were hastily pulled on, as if all of this had been a surprise for them. Sirius was sure it was.

Shaking, he gingerly placed his hand on James's cheek, hoping beyond hope that it was still warm. It wasn't. His friend's eyes were still open, and Sirius felt his heart rip in two as he realized with a jolt that they would never smile at him again, twinkle mischievously, or cloud over with sadness. They had looked at him less than a week ago with all the trust in the world, and now…now they were empty.

Sirius could barely breathe, but he turned his head, knowing what was next.

There was Lily, by the broken wall. He crawled over to her, each shuffling movement filling him with more and more despair.

There she was, the moonlight softly draping over her like a veil. He could barely see the brilliant green of her eyes; they were almost closed, but not quite. Her expression was a mixture of satisfaction and dread, the tears still glistening on her cheeks. Her body was hunched over like a rag doll, and her dark red hair hung messily off her shoulders and over her face. She too was dressed hastily, and Sirius could see a bit of her nightgown peeking through the sleeves.

Lily Potter, formerly Lily Evans: the vibrant woman with a strong spirit; the feisty wife of James; the gentle mother of Harry; the caring sister of he, Remus, and Peter…dead.

Sirius choked back a sob as he remembered how she too had given Sirius all her trust, despite their past encounters. She had believed in him and his judgment to protect her and her family; her husband and son.

And now…Thanks to their faith in him, they were dead. He buried his face in his hands.

And suddenly, there it was again. That muffled cry, high and afraid.

He jerked his head up with a start and froze, trying to place the sound. Staggering to his feet, Sirius looked around, wondering if the sound was real or if he was going crazy.

His eyes rested on Harry's crib. An antique - it had been James's before Harry was born. The once proud mahogany resting place was now smoking slightly, the shiny wood charred and black.

Sirius swallowed hard. If Harry were anywhere, it'd probably be there.

Sirius slowly walked towards the crib, his heart beating painfully fast. The short trek seemed to take years; by the time Sirius got to the edge of the bed, he was shaking again. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he looked down.

"_I'll be coming by to check up on you sometime this week, all right?"_

"_What day?"_

"_I don't know yet."_

"_Um, all right…"_

"_Are you okay, Peter? You look a bit pale."_

"_Oh no, it's nothing. Don't you worry about me."_


End file.
